The slow social descent into barbarism

The vast majority of activists are part time. They see an issue in their youth or after a major life change and they go full Don Quixote for a few years(at most). Then they stop. They move to other activities. Put their money and time towards other things.

Because change is hard. You can’t tear out an entrenched establishment by the roots with a few tugs. Its a colossal entity. It takes time and slow erosion.

You have to keep showing up. Keep donating. Keep voting. Keep speaking. It’s, frankly, exhausting. So rather than stop completely, I am asking that you pick two of the things. One has to be to keep voting. As long as they are pretending its a fair system, we keep voting. And for the other, pick one.

It took 50 years for the far right to pack the Supreme Court with politically motivated justices who are completely willing to forego precedent and overturn prior decisions. All while screaming about states rights. States rights being code for racist, homophobic, and misogynistic legislation and rulings.

States don’t need more rights. Broadly speaking, they have all the rights they need. Look at all the red states packing their legislatures and overturning voting rights for the last 50 years.
And look at all states who have legalized marijuana. Despite federal law.

Excluding rights from the citizenry is not a states rights issue. It’s a authoritarian issue.

Conservatives screaming about legislation from the bench are now eerily quiet, now that they are getting their way.

Hypocrisy. On the bench. In our legislatures. In our families.

Keep fighting. As much as you can. Don’t just give up. These are dark times. But eventually there is a light.

Whether that light be the dawn of a new day, or the bonfires of revolution.

Syllogistic decline

Should heart be cast down
to erupt unaided by time or awareness
bound purpose in the snow
failing inward to oblivion
and splintered remnants of knowing smiles
found distressed in the slippery madness
gone hallow
desperate to desire
in turnabout and gyre
taste of lips and I am home
the maelstrom’s son forgotten
pressure builds of slipping shudder step
and giving all
have wrought

The pale memories of waning years bundle
spear out
the piercing shriek of pulsar
what was once the history of the world
becomes the collapsing waveform
the energistic creation of itself
modified by the shifting passage of existence